


Operation Dinner

by diogeegohome, underwaterporcupines



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, Fluff, Gay Disasters, M/M, Mild Language, Not Beta Read, OR IS HE, Parenthood, Post-Episode: s03e06 Astro B.O.Y.D.!, Pre-Relationship, Season 3 Spoilers, don't worry boyd is asleep, gyro can't cook, louie taught boyd to be a lil punk, mildly drunk gay dads.docx, self-indulgent Mark Beaks mention, the latina author regrets the lack of usage of spanish, they r in lov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26418898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diogeegohome/pseuds/diogeegohome, https://archiveofourown.org/users/underwaterporcupines/pseuds/underwaterporcupines
Summary: Fenton, on the other hand, continually surprised Gyro. His ideas, his actions, the ability he had to get Gyro to trust him, enjoy his company, reveal things he wouldn't tell just anyone, and most outstandingly, the ability to render Gyro speechless. Gyro flushed in anticipation of the dinner.Fenton changes Gyro's definition of a perfect moment.
Relationships: B.O.Y.D. (Disney: DuckTales) & Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera, B.O.Y.D. (Disney: DuckTales) & Gyro Gearloose, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera/Gyro Gearloose
Comments: 13
Kudos: 102





	Operation Dinner

Gyro sat on the sofa, sighing deeply. After a week of trying to develop a new invention to appease the board, taking care of the damage on Gizmoduck armor _—and Fenton, but they agreed not to speak about it—_ after a particularly rough mission, helping the green nephew avoid being killed by a defective TV that appeared to have gained sentience, helping Boyd and the red nephew earn their physics patches, and all other sorts of shenanigans that comes with being a father of two robots and part of the McDuck clan, he finally had a much needed moment to himself.

He got comfortable on the couch, poured himself a glass of wine, and opened a book about pheromones, researching for a project he had been working on. He was peacefully going through the pages discussing the involvement of pheromones in reproduction, deeply submerged in all the knowledge expressed before his eyes. The moment was basically the definition of perfect for Gyro Gearloose.

“Dr. Gearloose! Could we invite Fenton over for dinner?” Boyd suddenly emerged from his room, accidentally startling the scientist and forcing him to pause his reading.

“Boyd, I'm sure Cabrera would be delighted to spend time with you, but he's probably really busy right now.”

“He didn’t put anything on his calendar for this afternoon,” Boyd said with a frown. He brightened back up quickly. “I could call him to make sure!” His pupils morphed into little phone icons.

Gyro’s arms tensed and he closed his book, leaning towards his young boy. “Really, we wouldn’t want to bother him. He doesn’t put everything on the calendar, you know.”

“The phone’s ringing!” Boyd hopped up to sit next to Gyro on the couch and Gyro sighed. The dial sounded once, twice…

 _Please don’t pick up, please don’t pick up,_ Gyro prayed. The weekend was only beginning; there should have been more time before an unavoidable disaster, right?

“Hi, Señor Cabrera! Dr. Gearloose and I were wondering if you could come over for dinner tonight!” 

Fenton’s voice crackled over Boyd’s speakers, “Ay pequeñín, I’d be honored! What should I bring?”

“What should he bring?” Boyd asked Gyro.

“Enough wine to make me forget about this,” the chicken said, only half-joking.

“I only have one bottle, but it should more than suffice! I can be there in about two hours.” Even through the phone, Fenton seemed to be buzzing with excitement. “Is that okay?”

Gyro glanced from Boyd’s face to his abandoned book, then back to Boyd. He sighed once more. “Yes, that would be acceptable.”

“Splendid!” Fenton exclaimed. “I look forward to it, Dr. Gearloose!”

The line clicked. Gyro took off his glasses to rub at his eyes. “Sounds like we’ve got some cleaning to do, Boyd,” said the chicken, resignedly giving up his peaceful afternoon.

The little parrot shook his head. “I can take care of the messes. It’s just reverting the rooms to what they looked like earlier, right?” He projected images of the cleaned-up kitchen and living room. “I can recreate these easily. Meanwhile, maybe you should reconsider your outfit choice and take a shower.”

“I—My outfit?” Gyro stammered, staring down at his usual choice of clothes. “I think I look fine.”

“It’s up to you. It’s just customary to wash up in preparation for guests.”

“Fine.” Gyro stood up and put a hand on Boyd’s head. “I’ll be right back.”

Heading to his room, Gyro found that he was pleased with Boyd’s grasp of standard dinner etiquette. He only wished they could have practiced with anyone else. He’d sooner invite Mark Beaks into his home over some business matters. At least he knew how to deal with Beaks. He could predict his every move. Fenton, on the other hand, continually surprised Gyro. His ideas, his actions, the ability he had to get Gyro to trust him, enjoy his company, reveal things he wouldn't tell just anyone, and most outstandingly, the ability to render Gyro speechless. Gyro flushed in anticipation of the dinner.

Oh, right. The dinner. Blathering blatherskite, what was he going to wear? 

He reluctantly hung up his hat and started to evaluate his appearance from top to bottom. His hair was presentable after a few pats, and his glasses would obviously have to stay. His tie… well, it was business casual. Was this a _work acquaintance_ dinner, or a _friend_ dinner? How the hell was he supposed to choose a tie without that information? Forget it. He’d keep the damn tie. And the shirt. The vest could be exchanged for a cardigan, but he’d keep his sleeves rolled up for convenience. He expected his normal belt and pants would be fine. He ran a hand through his hair for good measure and began searching for the brown cardigan he rarely wore.

Once he’d thinned out the minor wrinkles in the fabric, Gyro made his way back downstairs to help Boyd with the cleaning. They were as efficient a pair as one would expect them to be while cleaning their home. They dusted shelves and rearranged pillows and vacuumed areas that they’d been meaning to vacuum for weeks. Eventually, Boyd noted that Gyro hadn’t actually made anything for dinner yet.

“Shi—” Gyro caught himself. “Shoot. You’re right. I’ll see what I can do.”

He scoured the kitchen cabinets for something appropriate to serve. He supposed the boxed macaroni and cheese could work. He knew Fenton liked the dish, and Boyd ate pretty much anything Gyro prepared for them. Plus, he was running out of time.

Boyd walked in as Gyro was stirring the creamy mixture in the pot. “Dr. Gearloose, he just texted. He’s about two minutes away.”

Gyro dropped the ladle in surprise, but it landed in the pot, so it was fine. “How does the house look? Good? Bad? Barely passing?” He knew it probably wasn’t _bad_ , but he wanted to give Boyd the full scale. Just in case something happened while he was gone.

“It looks fine, Dr. Gearloose. I’m going to go set the table.”

“Excellent. This is almost done, so I’ll join you momentarily.”

Boyd gave Gyro a little thumbs-up and left.

When Fenton arrived, Gyro was still transferring the pasta to a serving dish, so Boyd went to get the door. Gyro couldn’t quite hear what was being said as Fenton came in, but he thought he could make out a “looks cleaner than usual” from the duck and a small thanks from Boyd. Once the table was ready, Gyro joined them in the main room.

He did a double take when he saw Fenton. He’d never seen him in anything other than the usual work attire, the Gizmoduck suit, and the outfit from his date with Gandra Dee. Fenton must have gone shopping since then, because he was wearing a muted teal button-up which the scientist thought suited him nicely.

Gyro shook his head. “Cabrera,” he said in greeting.

Fenton’s eyes lit up. “Dr. Gearloose, it’s good to see you! A bit odd outside of work, but your company is always a pleasure, so I’m looking forward to this nonetheless!” He held out his hand, which Gyro awkwardly shook, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. They’d already met. No need to be so formal.

“Right.” The chicken gestured towards the dining table. “Shall we?” 

The three of them sat, Fenton and Boyd across from Gyro, and awkwardly started to eat the macaroni and cheese. Boyd, who didn't actually need sustenance, ate a small portion anyway, cringing a little at the silence from both his creator and his co-worker. The two of them were apparently caught in a vicious loop of subtly looking at each other, then looking away as soon as their eyes met. And although it was quite amusing for the little boy to watch, this was definitely not going according to his plans. He had to come up with something, quickly.

He yawned.

“Did you just yawn?” asked Gyro, already realizing something was up with his son. “That's weird, you're not supposed to—”

“It was probably a glitch!” the parrot said, trying to save the situation. “Anyways, my visors are dimming, I think I'm just going to go recharge in my room, if you don't mind.”

“Didn't you just recharge a few hours ago?”

“Well, yes, but… we've done a lot since then, it must have drained my batteries.” He could notice his creator looking at him with skepticism.

“Drained your batteries, huh? Are you sure you're feeling okay?” the scientist asked, reaching across the table to check Boyd's temperature by carefully placing his palm on the parrot's forehead.

“I'm completely fine, Dr. Gearloose! I just need a recharge, nothing to worry about.”

“Well, if you say so. Do you want me to tuck you in? Tell you a story, perhaps?” Gyro asked, already standing up.

“I think I've heard enough bedtime stories about a certain superhero, Dr. Gearloose,” the kid said with a complicit smirk, watching his creator blush at the indirect mention of all the Gizmoduck stories he tells him before recharge. “You two have a good time. Trust me, you won't miss me.” He winked at the scientist before leaving.

Gyro was dumbfounded. Granted, he could detect a scheme when he saw one, but coming from Boyd? Maybe he was letting him spend a bit too much time with the green nephew; he might even have been the one who taught him to wink.

“Wow, his self-learning programming is absolutely amazing!” Fenton said, genuinely impressed by Boyd's behavior. “He acts more organically every day, did he just wink? You two even have inside jokes, apparently!”

“Uh, yes, I suppose he is really smart,” Gyro responded, instantly starting to get anxious about the fact that he was left alone with Fenton, of all people. “Maybe a little bit too smart,” he muttered to himself.

“I'm sorry, what did you just say? I didn't catch that.”

“I, uh…” Oh god, his face was starting to feel hot again, was he blushing? He was definitely blushing, probably making a fool of himself, and now he had to think fast, so he looked at the table expecting it to give him an answer. “I asked if you would like some more wine!” he said, nervously pouring some in his own glass. Good thinking, wine, that's how he's going to get through this. Certainly not getting drunk, but just a little more relaxed.

“Uhm, Yeah, that would be nice. Just a little bit, though, mamá would kill me if she saw me arriving home drunk.” He laughed a bit nervously. “Not to mention that I have to drive all the way to my house.”

“Yes, right, just a little bit.” He poured a moderate amount of wine into Fenton's glass.

They drank simultaneously, the whole situation was getting extremely uncomfortable. Gyro turned around and glared at the door of what had turned into Boyd's room, his mind going back to his strange behavior.

“I'm sure he's fine,” the duck said, trying to reassure Gyro.

“Yes, I know. I'm just…” The scientist sighed. There it was, Fenton's facility to get him to open up about almost anything. “I just worry sometimes."

“I can imagine. I mean, I can't really, it's not like I was ever a father. I don't even think I would be a good father.” The duck was speaking fast, probably about to go on one of his rambles.

“Well, me neither,” admitted Gyro, looking anywhere but at Fenton.

“Really? But you're doing so great!”

“Do you genuinely think so? Or are you just saying it out of courtesy?” Gyro asked, a bit taken back by the statement.

“Of course I think so! Boyd looks like a really happy and responsible kid. I think you're doing a great job, Dr. Gearloose. And I'm not saying it because you're my boss, or because you invited me for dinner, or because I personally consider you a good friend of mine.” He placed a hand on top of Gyro's. Was it getting a little bit hot in there, or was it just the chicken's face? Whatever it was, the scientist was sure of one thing: it definitely suited Fenton, because he looked better than ever.

“R-Really?”

 _Really? Way to go, Gearloose!_ he reprimanded himself.

“Yes. I say it because I see the way Boyd looks at you, and I see the way you look at him. You care about him, Gyro, a lot, much more than his previous owners. I see how you worry about him, how proud you are every time he earns a new badge, how grateful you are of the fact that he has made friends with Scrooge's great nephews. You care, and you try, and he's happy. That's all that matters.”

“But what if it's not enough?” he asked, vaguely registering the sound of his first name. His eyes were glued to Fenton's, stinging just a bit.

“The fact that you ask yourself that is already enough. You're doing great, you just need to relax. Besides, there's no use getting stressed, Boyd isn't even awake now. Save that energy for parenting.”

Gyro looked at the table and noticed that Fenton's plate was already empty, as was his. So he stood up, immediately missing the contact of their hands.

“Alright. You’ve convinced me. I'm just gonna clean this up now.”

“I'll help,” the duck said, already picking up the plates.

“You know, guests aren't supposed to help clean up,” the scientist said, picking up the condiments and cutlery.

“I don't mind it,” Fenton shrugged, already bringing the plates to the kitchen.

They got rid of the leftovers and put the plates and cutlery into the dishwasher. After that, they silently agreed to sit on the couch, wine glasses refilled a couple times, both of them slowly and unconsciously inching closer to each other.

It was when Fenton was going on a ramble about Gyro's book on pheromones that Gyro stopped to think about how much he was enjoying this peaceful moment between them. Screw the pheromones book, this was Gyro's new definition of a perfect moment.

“Fenton?” He spoke quietly.

“Oh, I'm sorry, am I rambling? Sometimes I tend to do that, I know it can be very upsetting so please let me know if I'm rambling, because I don't wanna bore you with—”

“Fenton.”

“Sorry.” The duck looked down, embarrassed. This made Gyro smile, endeared. Man, that wine was really getting to his head.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, it's okay, I know you don't like when I ramble.”

“No! I mean… Thank you for coming here.” He swallowed. This was it. No takebacks now. “Thank you for being so good with Boyd and especially so patient and understanding with me. You know, anybody else would've gotten tired of my shit months ago. But you didn't. And I don't think I fully understand why, but I appreciate it.”

“Are you serious, Dr. Gearloose? You made my dream of working with the best scientist in town come true, and that's not even the beginning! You let me be a superhero, and while you weren't all that supportive when it all started, in the end you always helped me. And on top of that, I get to be around robots, time traveling tech, and clones every day! Dr. Gearloose, I'm the one who's grateful.” 

“Gyro.”

“Sorry, what?”

“I think we're at a point of our relationship where you should call me Gyro. At least outside of work.”

“Alright. Gyro, then.” He stretched, yawning. Noticing that he was getting sleepy, he checked the time on his phone.

“Oh, god, I should… I should probably go,” he said, already standing up from the couch, slightly losing his balance in the process.

“Please stay,” asked Gyro, grabbing his hand.

“Hm?” He looked at the hand grabbing his, then at its owner.

“I mean, you're, you're probably pretty drunk, and”—he let go of the duck's hand, instead electing to rub his neck nervously—“and I wouldn't want anything happening to you on the way home because—” He took a deep breath, reevaluating the direction of the conversation. “Because your mom would definitely kill me and I'm too young to die.” 

“Well, if you're too young to die, maybe you should stop getting electrocuted every three days.” Fenton made himself comfortable on the couch again.

“Okay, I recognize that you may have a point there.” He laughed, his co-worker quickly joining him. “Did I ever thank you for saving my life that day?” he added, unpromptedly.

“Gyro, what are you talking about?” Fenton asked, still laughing a bit.

“You know, with the whole B.U.D.D.Y. situation.”

“I think that was kind of my fault to begin with.” Fenton's laugh was now a bit nervous; he wasn't used to this caring, sensible, pretty drunk side of his boss.

“True, it was mostly Beaks… but who cares whose fault it was. Without you, I'd probably be dead. So. Thank you.” He smiled sincerely, and god, Fenton really hoped he would remember this in the morning.

“Gyro.”

“Hm?”

“Can I hug you?”

Gyro looked at him, surprised at first. Then he looked down at apparently nowhere, and finally, unexpectedly, hugged Fenton. The duck hugged him back, quickly getting comfortable in Gyro's arms.

“Fenton.”

”Hm?”

“You're warm.”

“And you're… pretty comfortable.”

“Good.” They reached a silent agreement to stay like that, slowly giving into the couch. As his eyes grew heavy, Gyro could swear he heard Boyd on the phone from his room. He didn't mind it, he was too close to sleep to give it a second thought.

So he closed his eyes and drifted into a peaceful slumber, which turned out to be more relaxing than any afternoon he’d spent with a book.

And if Boyd walked into the living room the next morning to be greeted by the sight of Gyro and Fenton sleeping embraced in a tight hug, he had the courtesy not to mention it over breakfast. 


End file.
